Playthings
by Kimono Fox
Summary: Aizen did grow so easily bored in Las Noches. ATL 'recruitment' of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Rated M for lemon/lime.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: Just a fun piece that I'm not quite sure where I'm going with, and will most likely be just a two-parter. This work is un-betaed, so please forgive any grammatical mistakes you might come across, hopefully they are very few.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Dull.<p>

Aizen Sōsuke had determined it to be the proper way to describe this period of waiting in the depths of Las Noches.

It was a necessary part of his plan, he knew that. He had long since revealed himself to the Soul Society, they knew what he was about to do now, and so he had to prepare.

The time of ripening. The time when he was to utilize the Hōgyoku to build his army of vastro lordes to substantial strength. Still, his darling espada were not nearly as thrilling as having the entirety of the thirteen court guard squad as his playthings. All those people to deceive and lead about in his grand puppet show... Hinamori had been particularly enjoyable, at first. But like all things, he had grown tragically bored. It had been high time to move on. He just didn't foresee this time of waiting to be so tragically... dull.

Yes, the espada were interesting enough. But in the end, they all looked up to him as their leader, their god. This was proper, of course. Aizen would not tolerate them to see him as anything less. However, it did get so dreadfully _bland_. Before long, he would just see the simpering face of that brat Momo Hinamori looking up at him with awestruck eyes.

And then Aizen would have to break them and find new toys to replace them. The poor things.

He rested his head against his fist, leaning back on the marble slate throne, a shocking bright contrast to the dark hall. He closed his eyes, letting his mind drift. His consciousness spread out, taking account of the reiatsu of those who occupied Los Noches. Two in particular caught his attention.

Ah, Zommari and Nnoitra were returning. It seemed like they had a gift for him as well.

This was the time of ripening after all. His army had not yet reached a suitable threshold to accomplish what he would need when the Winter Wars were to begin. It was for this reason that his ranks were dispatched every day, scouring the lonely expanse Hueco Mundo to find those suitable of joining Aizen's forces.

It had been quite a while since a worthy adjuchas had been discovered, who thusly became Aaroniero Arruruerie, his new ninth espada. Others... those were always so messy. Ones who could not handle the transformation of the hogyoku, those who simply did not have sufficient power to evolve.

This adjuchas being brought into the main hall though... it felt promising.

Seeing it up close was even more intriguing.

It seemed that Nnoitra and Zommari had not gone out recruiting, but hunting. Not all of the worthy adjuchas or wandering vastro lordes were entirely willing to meet with him, strange as it might seem. They were still precious, rare creatures though, not to be wasted by their own foolishness.

Aizen's two espada both held thick black ropes in their hands, and slung between them, tangled in the middle was a snarling, struggling, enraged little adjuchas.

To any common observer, it would be laughable. The thing was only a bit larger than a real world panther that it had come to take the likeness of. His energy however... was palatable. It was a survivor... strong. Its reiatsu had the striking taste of the forest after a rainstorm. It was clear and strong, untainted by the rot of regression that plagued the weaker adjuchas, destined to return to their gillian form. Aizen sat up, intrigued.

"Not too keen on coming, were you?" Nnoitra laughed, kicking the adjuchas in the gut, sending the bound creature skidding across the smooth stone floor, its inch-long claws digging into the obsidian as it tried in vain to get its bearings back. The rope had wrapped around him like a spider's web, binding his front paws together, around his muzzle and over his back. Plates of white armor covered its streamline body, black liquid oozing out of gashing wounds covering its torso and flanks. Aizen imagined Nnoitra had made great sport of the pitiful thing. Feisty as it might have been, it was hardly a match for Aizen's espada.

"I have no interest in damaged goods, Nnoitra." Aizen frowned, looking over the struggling cat. Still fighting, was it?

"Yeah, well it was fun pummeling the thing. Besides, he's still breathing, isn't he?"

Nnoitra was developing an annoying habit of bringing in any adjuchas he found, potential usefulness be damned. Out of all of his espada, Nnoitra took great delight in seeing them be blown up by the hogyoku. The adjuchas thrashed in rage and pain, snarling and snapping despite his critical wounds. His tail lashed against the ground, nearly cracking the stone. His head lolled to the side, glaring at Aizen now. A vivid blue eye snapped onto the man, glaring straight through him. It was an astonishing bloom of color in this black and white world.

An intriguing specimen indeed. For a moment, Aizen teased the idea in his mind of keeping this creature for himself. It would make a striking image, sitting on his throne with this beast curled up at his feet. More appetizing however, was the prospect of what kind of vastro lorde this rare, lovely adjuchas would make.

It was a gamble, but Aizen had not felt this awake in weeks.

He snapped his fingers, the ropes turning to ash, freeing up the panther. It writhed on the floor, getting to his feet. Without sparing a breath, it shot forward, lunching at Aizen with slathering jaws.

"How cute." Aizen caught the creature calmly by the neck, holding him at an arm's length so that it could thrash and fight all it wanted. "Now, listen to me adjuchas. I am going to give you a great gift." The creature didn't cease fighting, but its ears did flick forward ever so slightly. It was paying attention, good. "In return, you will serve me obediently and selflessly. From this point on... I am your master."

Aizen threw it to the ground, producing the hogyoku in his palm. The adjuchas gathered itself to strike again, but not before Aizen acted first.

More ropes shot out again, this time from unseen locations about the room. They grabbed the panther's legs, around its stomach, wrapping tightly about him as it attacked and struggled. Its tail whipped through the air, razor sharp but unable to do a thing as he was slowly wound tighter and tighter, roaring and shrieking all the while. Now it was a new kind of roar, one even new to the aduchas itself. One of fear. It was helpless against these things, and panicked as it was wound too tight to even struggle. It only stopped when the ropes bound his maw together, making it impossible for him to breathe. The last thing he saw was a white box being drawn around him, sealing him in...

The hogyoku was activated, and the captive adjuchas was torn apart.

The box exploded, shards of bone and mask vaporized into sand all save for the largest portions, littered around him like a broken nest, containing the curled up, stark nude body of Aizen's newest vastro lorde.

His wounds were gone, and now his skin was smooth, returned to naked flesh and blood save for the wild jaw of his remaining mask, and the dark hole at his navel. He was curled up in the wreckage of armored plates that had once composed his body, his hair a wild mess of that same vivid blue. Zommari was unfazed, and Nnotira looked vaguely put out that this transformation had not resulted in the same gorey end that all the others had.

Ah, but those lovely eyes remained unchanged. A bit smaller now, but it only seemed to focus the panther's fierce nature. Already, it was forcing itself up onto its hands and knees, breathing heavily, the muscles on its back and arms flexing as his chest heaved, trying to get a grip on the massive, reeling change.

The power.

He had never felt so strong before. Was this the legendary power of the vastro lorde that his comrades had given up on?

If only they knew.

He felt as if he could do anything. Be anything. His blood burned with fire and felt like it was shooting out of his ears and his eyes. If he wished it, he could reach up and pull the stars from the skies, tear the horizon asunder. Nothing could stop him now.

Nobody.

"You... just made a big mistake." The man's voice was deep and harsh. His nails dug into the ground as he looked up at Aizen with those wild eyes. "Making me stronger. Cause now I'm going to show you who the _real_ master is!" He snarled, pouncing forward with a sudden burst of energy that rippled about the room, actually causing Zommari to skid backwards across the floor.

"And his name is Grimmjow Jaeg-"

He was cut off as Aizen tilted his head, and Grimmjow was floored.

The world came crashing down on him, the air was solid and thick as stone.

There was no describing a spiritual pressure like this. It was beyond crushing. He could feel his newly reconstructed bones groaning to support his body, his mind going blank as he slowly suffocated. Grimmjow didn't even have words for it.

_Di Roy had always talked about finally achieving vastro lorde..._ Grimmjow looked up at the man cooly smiling over him with difficulty. His breathing was coming in pained gasps, and didn't seem to fill his lungs at all. _Could he have ever imagined that there was something... beyond that?_

If there was, Grimmjow had just met him. Something incalculable and incomprehensible. Something worlds beyond that horizon that Grimmjow had only just now dreamed of touching.

Something impossible to reach.

But that didn't mean he wasn't going to try.

"Still fighting, are you? My, how spirited." Aizen walked down from his throne, down to the writhing, suffering, newly born vastro lorde. He crouched down beside him, scooping up Grimmjow's head, stroking his soft cheek. Such fight in this one.

Though he was struggling to breathe, Grimmjow gripped Aizen's arms tightly, teeth bared in a hiss. Those brilliant eyes were trained on him fiercely, narrowed with loathing.

"I'm... going to fucking kill you." He struggled to spit out through gritted teeth.

Aizen laughed, something that even caused Nnoitra to balk in surprise.

"Boys. Tell Halibel that she is unneeded in my chambers tonight. I do believe I have found a new pet."

* * *

><p>(<em>Short and pretty tame. The next chapter will be a bit longer and quite a bit more 'M' rated so stay tuned =) )<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** So I apologize for some of the grammatical/canon mistakes of the previous chapter. Thank you to everyone who is still with this story in spite of them! Again, this story is un-betaed, and though I do my best I'm sure a few errors slip by me. If you review (and please do) please be gentle with me.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Before Grimmjow could stop to wonder what the hell Aizen's words were supposed to mean, a dark portal appeared on the ground behind him. The dark man stood, kicking Grimmjow back into the abyss of the thing, which swallowed him up before disappearing.<p>

The portal caused Grimmjow to fall some immeasurable distance, before landing harshly not in a dark, dank cell, or some desolate cave somewhere to be devoured by Aizen's abominations, but on something soft and white. He lay there for a moment, his mind reeling, still trying to gather his breath.

Now that he had a moment of peace, he could stop and think about what had just happened. Had he really been out hunting other adjuchas just this evening? Then those vastro lordes came... stronger than any he had experienced before. Grimmjow had been certain that he would end up dying that day, but instead they lashed him up and hauled him back like he was some sort of pig ready to be stuck. He stared over the silken white sheets, looking dully at the bizarre appendage stretching out away from him. He flexed his fingers.

Fingers. He had hands now.

Hands and arms.

Weird.

Grimmjow sat up, exploring his body with his new hands. Since his human life was entirely beyond his capacity to recall, he had no recollection of what he had looked like when he was alive. He had been in Hueco Mundo so long, he was almost beginning to forget what the human body was _supposed_ to look like.

Unbothered by his nudity, he ran his hands down his neck, exploring the contours of his abdomen, squeezed a firm bicep experimentally.

He was entirely unaware that for a short while now he had not been alone in this grand, dark room with the enormous white bed. Aizen watched Grimmjow with bemusement. It was only when his new espada started examining his toes with childlike curiosity that he decided to interrupt this cute moment.

"I take it you're enjoying your new form."

The response was instantaneous. Grimmjow's eyes snapped up, his body tense as he spun about to face his adversary on the bed, his spine arched and his nails digging into the sheets. It only came natural to him from his previous, four-legged form. Though anyone else pulling such a pose would probably look silly, Aizen couldn't help but be drawn to such wild abandon. His old toys, Coyote and Halibel had since become so complacent, their passion drained. It was this defiance that had him aroused, that made him so wish to take the mongrel down a peg or tow.

"What do you want with me?"

"I had thought I stated that quite clearly in the main hall." Aizen said with a cool smile, his eyes raking across Grimmjow's supple body. After so much time spent as a adjuchas, Grimmjow had all but forgotten about the desires of the body. Still, he did not have to understand lust at the moment to find Aizen's gaze... thoroughly unwelcome.

"Like hell I'm fighting for you." Grimmjow backed up against the headboard of the bed, searching the room until he noticed the high, wide windows letting the moonlight stream in.

He wasn't staying here one more minute, with this godlike figure that had morphed his body with playful ease. One day he would return, he was certain of it. One day when he was stronger, ready to face this adversary. But that was not today.

Grimmjow had not lived so long without first learning when to run.

He coiled up and sprang, clearing the vaulted ceiling with ease as he sailed towards the window, towards his freedom. At the last minute though, the black ropes appeared again, one of them wrapping around his ankle, pulling him jarringly out of his flight.

With the ease of swinging about a ragdoll, Aizen pulled the rope around, sending Grimmjow crashing to the ground, hitting the floor rather than the bed this time, landing in a crumpled heap.

Grimmjow made a pitiful sound that he refused to acknowledge as a whimper, pulling himself back to his feet, focusing on Aizen with some difficulty, as the world was spinning. Though this man was strange and frightening, Grimmjow refused to look down, to acknowledge his superiority. His opponent did not advance, nor did he stand aside. It was understood... Grimmjow was not about to leave with Aizen standing there.

With a roar he charged, now attacking Aizen now as an obstacle blocking his escape. Although he was newborn in this body of his, how to move in it seemed to come naturally to him. He snarled and slashed, moving in a whirlwind, faster than he ever had before. It would be a lie to say that Grimmjow was not eager to try out his new muscles, to see what limit this body could be brought to. Soon enough, he had Aizen dancing back again, dodging punches, narrowly blocking blows.

Grimmjow threw his head back and laughed victoriously, going in for the final blow. Electric blue cero crackled in the palm of his hand. He zoomed in on Aizen, everything slowing down for Grimmjow's glorious victory...

And then his opponent disappeared.

Grimmjow wasn't sure when Aizen hit him, or how many times. All he knew was that one minute he was lunging forward to attack, and the next his world was reeling and he was on his back in the corner, struggling to catch his breath. His body was suddenly aching all over, throbbing and sore from what could have been anywhere from a hundred to a thousand blows laid down on him. The acid tang of bile burned the back of his throat as he fought the urge to dry heave.

"By all means, feel free to continue fighting me." Aizen stood over Grimmjow solemnly, leaning to the side so that Grimmjow could see him from his current splayed position. "Its an integral part of your training to accept that it is hopeless to do so"

"T-training...?" Grimmjow gasped, still reeling from the pain.

"You'll notice I'm not using my spiritual pressure to subdue you, as I did in the main chambers, my darling espada." His voice was deep and smooth, sending shivers across Grimmjow's aching body. Aizen crouched down beside Grimmjow, grabbing his chin in his hand, pulling it forward so that he could face Grimmjow properly. Aizen wondered if he would ever tire of those lovely eyes, as he had with so many others. He could detect three different shades of brilliant cerulean, refracting the light to amplify the color. By now, he was not surprised to see that Grimmjow had emerged with a unique tattoo design on his face, but was pleasantly surprised how it complimented his features.

"I could break you, you know. So very easily." Aizen grabbed Grimmjow's by the back of his hair, pulling him to his feet. "I could crush you." He spoke quietly, lovingly. Grimmjow was tossed back onto the bed, still too in pain from the attack to properly get up and fight.

He would... of course he would. He just needed to catch his breath first.

In the meantime, Aizen took his time, lazily pulling off his sash and tossing it aside.

"What are you doing?" Grimmjow finally gasped, Aizen languidly sliding out of his jacket. Though Grimmjow had originally thought Aizen to be far more slender than he was, he could now see that Aizen was every bit as toned as he was.

"Perhaps I didn't explain myself properly." Aizen approached Grimmjow, moving like a shark in deep water, his gaze cooly fixed upon Grimmjow. "I am here to take the throne of heaven for myself. You, my pet, will have the honor of sitting at my feet." He grabbed Grimmjow's wrists, pinning them above his head.

Grimmjow snarled back at him, but it quickly turned into a hiss of pain as Aizen's wrists tightened warningly. Beads of red blood appeared where his nails dug in.

"You will understand soon enough. But to serve me, you must first love me." As fiercely as Aizen began, his voice quickly changed to a cool, deep thrum. Grimmjow's angry retort died somewhere in the depth's of Aizen's eyes. That gaze that had unsettled him so before now intensified as he pressed closer, looming over Grimmjow's exposed form pressed to the sheets of the bed. He could physically _feel_ it crawling over him, caressing him. The gaze moved steadily downward, pausing to consider Grimmjow's newly virgin manhood, resting in a thatch of thin blue hair.

"S-stop that." Grimmjow was startled to hear how weak his voice had suddenly become.

"My dear Grimmjow, do you remember what it feels like to be touched by another?" A cool hand pressed against his side, running along the contour of his chest.

"I..."

In all truth, he didn't. It had been ages since Grimmjow knew any touch which wasn't cruel. All contact came in the form of strikes or blows, meant to cut or hack or poison. But now these felt... tingly. It startled his nerves that didn't know what to make of such a strange attack. Aizen's thumb pressed against a spot between his hip and his thigh, Grimmjow jumped.

"That's enough!" He tried to move, but it seemed that at some point Aizen had cast a kido binding his wrists together, keeping them pinned above his head.

"Hush. That binding spell will work just as well on your mouth." Aizen threatened, still examining Grimmjow's body with light touches. His fingers circled the navel lazily, trailing down to the taut thighs. Though he wasn't fighting or running, and the room wasn't too hot, Grimmjow all the same found himself beginning to gasp for air, his mind drawn to the point of energy that was Aizen's curious fingertips, now trailing up his legs. He gripped the espada's knees, pulling them apart to better view him.

Grimmjow shuddered as the sudden cool air hit him, and he finally bit his lip to keep from crying out.

"What are you doing to me?" Grimmjow demanded in a hiss. His body was heating up at an alarming rate now. He glared up at Aizen, a rouge tint appearing in his cheekbones. The man had yet to even touch him _there..._ but already he had become so hot and swollen, as if possessed.

"Simply put... I am going to take this lovely body from you." Aizen said, a hand firmly stroking the inside of his smooth thigh, appreciating every dip and curve of muscle as he made his way to Grimmjow's manhood.

"Not that it was ever yours to begin with, as it was a thing I crafted with the hogyoku." He added lazily. Aizen's finger ran up Grimmjow's shaft like the cool side of a knife. Grimmjow's hands formed into useless fists as his hips bucked, suppressing the urge to moan. Aizen caressed him from base to tip, still with that cool, dispassionate smile. His entirely composed nature only twisted the knife of humiliation inside of Grimmjow, whose hips were now twitching and bucking sporadically, as he tried in vain to keep them from matching Aizen's ministrations. The pads of his fingertips were milking his swollen tip, white beads weakly spilling forth. Grimmjow felt as if the entirety of his now immeasurable strength was being poured into the region of his groin, focused to a point by this man who had so easily driven him to the threshold of something overwhelming and frightening and...

Grimmjow cried out, his back arching as his blood turned to hot liquid, his insides filled with fire. He didn't know what had just happened, what sort of attack would cause him to become blinded with such intense pleasure that it burned white behind his eyes.

He fell back against the bed, his lips parted so fetchingly as deep gasps were pulled from them. Aizen sat back, appreciating how sweetly his kitten could cry. He wasn't done yet though. Now, for the first time in quite a while he was hungrily aroused. The sight of the fierce Grimmjow so undone had him hard and throbbing, and he would hate to leave his new toy so temptingly... untouched.

Aizen left the bed just for a moment, returning with a white bottle. The top popped off, and a liberal amount of warm, fragranced oil was poured over his fingers.

Grimmjow looked up at Aizen with alarm. Foggy memories had resurfaced with the intensity of his orgasm. Vague recollections of hot nights and sensuous, tangled bodies. He knew what was coming next now.

"Don't you fucking dare!" Grimmjow kicked at Aizen fiercely, though those blows only hit the open air. An ankle was caught with ease, and twisted up in a painful way so suddenly that his struggles were forced to cease. Aizen took a moment to appreciate Grimmjow's flexibility, how he was able to twist the sinuous body in such a way that he was bared to him all at once. An unwilling whine escaped him as the slick fingers returned, gently circling Grimmjow's forbidden entrance.

"Hm... perhaps I could be persuaded, in exchange for some proper manners." Aizen's mocking tone was back, causing Grimmjow to grind his teeth in anger. An oil-warmed finger pressed against his hole warningly, and the snarls dissolved back into a simper.

"Try begging me properly, perhaps I'll reconsider." The espada's eyes popped with rage, and he cocked his head back with the intent to spit at Aizen instead. At the last minute though, his mouth was sealed tight with Aizen's powerful hand, two fingers thrusting into Grimmjow's mouth as two more plunged inside him from the other end. He cried out with both surprise and pain, shuddering as the two sets of fingers slowly continued to increase their depth inside of him with synced movements. Grimmjow might have tried biting down on Aizen, but his hierro made it impossible to mark him.

At first, the pain wasn't anything Grimmjow was unfamiliar with. He had been the fiercest of adjuchas after all, the king. He was accustomed to fierce battles with terrifying opponents, but this was something entirely different. The pain of stretching, thrusting was too intimate, too close. It had been so long, Grimmjow had thought it impossible, but now tears were pricking at the corner of his eyes. His lips formed a tight seal around the thrusting fingers. Aizen was preparing him, yes. But roughly, harshly. There was nothing sincere about this, as he attacked him in the harshest manner possible. When those digits between his legs twisted in him sharply, a muffled cry was torn out of him.

"I didn't quite hear that." Aizen pulled the dripping fingers out of Grimmjow's mouth, pausing to trace the soft, abused lips.

Grimmjow closed his eyes tightly, turning his head away from Aizen as far as it would go. When the words came, they were soft, and traitorous.

"P-please..."

It was hardly satisfactory, but it was a start. A chink in the solid wall of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez's pride. From there, he would tear the foundations from the earth.

Aizen thrusted his fingers deep inside Grimmjow once again, but this time striking a hidden cluster of nerves, causing his body to writhe and tense with a sharp stab of pleasure. Aizen smiled faintly, now beginning to mercilessly abuse the spot. Now Grimmjow's wild nature began to slowly ebb. His raging tension replaced with a more lascivious one, one that coiled and flexed in time with Aizen's ministrations. Grimmjow might not have been aware of it himself, but his body was dissolving into another tender plaything of Aizen Sōsuke.

Still moist from Grimmjow's hot mouth, Aizen's fingers teasingly graced one of Grimmjow's nipples. He dampened it, and blew a puff of cool air to splay across his chest. In such a hypersensitive state, Grimmjow reacted immediately. Those pale pink nubs became pert almost instantly.

"A wonderful thing... the sensitivity of a freshly cultivated espada." Aizen purred, pinching Grimmjow's nipple experimentally, causing the brilliant blue eyes to roll back into his head, his spine arched off of the silk sheets.

Aizen pushed Grimmjow's knees back, bearing the puckered hole which Aizen braced against his virile body. Grimmjow bit pale, trembling lips as he felt an intrusion, impossibly hot and hard breach him.

He took a moment to take pleasure in occupying the tight, hot sheath before thrusting the entirety of his engorged member inside in one fluid movement. Grimmjow cried out with violent pleasure, the muscles of his arms straining uselessly against their solid bonds. Aizen began to pound into him, hardly being gentle for the new sexta's first time. Grimmjow was too far drowned in the pleasure though to notice enough of the pain. Energy mounted between them, Grimmjow thrashing and roaring, clenching and straining as the massive flesh ripped through him.

Aizen sensed it happening, the kido cracking and beginning to tear.

He permitted it.

The bonds holding Grimmjow's wrists together shattered, and sharp nails dug into Aizen's powerful shoulders. They were unable to break the skin, but had an unbreakable grip just the same. Grimmjow sat up, almost bent entirely over. If Aizen hadn't been so enthralled in the fire in his espada's eyes, he might have been more impressed at this mongrel's strength. His fangs were bared, glaring into Aizen's impenetrable gaze.

A moment of intense silence passed between them.

Slowly, Aizen's hand moved, bracing the sweat dampened back of his fierce kitten, and guided him back down against the sheets, simultaneously thrusting into him once again, causing a wonton moan to be pulled from his trembling lips. His hips bucked up to meet Aizen, his fingernails clawing uselessly at his shoulders and back, pulling him in, wrapping his legs around Aizen as they moved in sync.

Soon enough, Grimmjow was gone again, spilling his seed as his mind went white in a surge of sexual power. Though his cock began to soften, Aizen was still hard as granite, and hardly finished with him. He changed their position, putting Grimmjow on his hands and knees and rode him from behind now, his thighs slapping against Grimmjow's firm, abused buttocks.

It took Aizen quite a bit longer before he felt fully sated by his new pet. By this time, the room was thick with the musk of sex, the faint tinge of blood as Aizen finally broke the tender skin. The air was hot and heavy, sweat mingling and pooling in the dips and nooks of the tangled bodies. At last, Aizen's breath shuddered as he came in waves of bliss, and finally pulled out of Grimmjow, drawing out a small whimper from the semi-conscious form.

Beads of sweat glistened on Grimmjow's beautiful, ravaged body. There was no longer any fight in him as Aizen laid back against the black satin pillows of the bed, tugging Grimjow's abused wrist so that the panther was sprawled across him. His body was flushed and hot, his fingers grasping blindly. Like a pretty porcelain doll, Aizen arranged Grimmjow so that he was curled up against Aizen's chest, his eyelashes soft against his master's skin. Aizen stroked Grimmjow's sex mussed hair in the afterglow, tipping his head back so he could see those beautiful eyes once again.

Like the rest of Grimmjow's current consciousness, they were fogged over, numb and dazed. Aizen ran his fingertips over the tattoos around is eyes, finally teasing his lips open and stealing a short, sweet kiss. Aizen ran his tongue over his bottom lip, savoring the taste of the reiatsu.

The jungle after the rain.

For the massive beating that Grimmjow received during the night, he woke up to surprisingly little pain the next day.

He blinked around the wide room, now a bit less threatening with pale, artificial sunlight coming in instead of the usual hueco mundo moon. It still hurt to walk, of course. But after the events of the night, he had been expecting to be immobilized for days, not just being reduced to a limp. The room was empty... of course.

It wasn't as if Grimmjow had still been expecting Aizen to be there.

At the foot of the bed, a new set of clothing had been laid out for him. Now terribly aware of his nakedness, Grimmjow hastened into them. When he moved to put the short cropped jacket on however, he paused, wincing at a pain on his back which he wasn't familiar with.

It was strange, since the aches and soreness of the night all felt subdued, clearly touched by some sort of healing kido. This one however, was still fresh and sharp.

Grimmjow sat up, moving over to a large, wide mirror at the end of the room, turning around to see.

There, on the side of the hollow hole, was a freshly inked number 'six' burned into his skin.

The sixth espada. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.


End file.
